The city square buzzed with activity, and located there in the centre of Principal District City was the Union of Guilds building.

  There was a fountain at the centre and in front of the building, while banners of all sorts hung from the towers.

  The merchants were much better dressed. These merchants obviously dealt with adventurers. They needed permits to sell their gear, along with other enchanted items, this close to the adventurers' guild building.

  They watched adventurers move past, and like children, they stared. Adventurers were popular. They were celebrities and were hired for hundreds of gold coins to take care of portals that appeared all over the city.

  “Some day,” Damian muttered.

  “Focus. Or are you growing soft on me?” Darrow smirked.

  They weaved through the crowd and headed straight for the large towering buildings with domed arches.

  The large doors of the guild house were carved out of oak and glowing runes.

  Inside the guild building, the lobby bustled with many adventurers wearing pieces of armour over their silk and cotton shirts. There were nobles in even finer silks carrying wands and duelling blades.

  Long counters lined one wall of the interior of the Union Guild building. Clerks with quills scribbled endlessly while Damian and Darrow joined a short line.

  A loud adventurer yelled and laughed with his adventuring party. He spoke about how he had killed an undead revenant all by himself and saved a member of his party.

  Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t the only one. Most of the adventurers did the same. The adventurers were here to report back on their experiences, what they had found, and to see if anyone was willing to buy the things they got from the dungeon.

  The clerks just kept moving the line ahead. They probably had [Scribe] classes or something of the sort.

  Darrow and Damian were standing in line with their names ready. They couldn’t be adventurers yet, but they could be contractors—porters.

  To be fair, it was a good plan. Even though they were not allowed to go into a dungeon as adventurers, she had said nothing about being porters.

  “Next, please,” a female clerk said after stamping a glowing seal on a paper and putting it to the side.

  The door crashed open suddenly, startling the female clerk—and everyone who did not have Darrow and Damian’s particular senses.

  A group of lionin strode through the door, and they were tall. Their fur gleamed, and they wore heavily armoured silks. The lionin guards wore pants and had large swords hanging on their belts.

  They moved like predators, and the much smaller humans, elves, and dwarves just parted for them. They were like predators in a sheep pen. Even the goliath adventurers did well to avoid them, especially this group.

  Conversations faltered around them as they made their way to the counters, ignoring the people in line. Those they passed by, however, did not complain. Even Darrow, with his particular brand of stubbornness, didn’t complain.

  “Step aside, human,” a female lionin said, looking down at the man dressed in fine business clothing.

  “Service. Now,” one of the lionin sneered at the clerk.

  The clerk looked nervous and flustered, and she stammered before deciding that bowing would be a better course of action.

  “Who is he?” Damian asked in a hushed whisper that wasn’t so quiet for any elf or lionin.

  “How am I supposed to know?” he whispered back.

  “You’re the rogue. Don’t you have a skill that allows you to notice if he’s a good mark or not?”

  Darrow just rolled his eyes and used his [Minor Spy’s Intuition] skill. This was his level two skill that allowed him to pick out things others may have missed. That, paired with his [Altered Awareness], gave him enough information to conclude a few things about the group.

  “They are probably emissaries from one of the prides.”

  “And?” Damian pushed.

  “They are bodyguards. Maybe some noble is visiting the city.”

  “Please, madam, there’s a line—” the clerk tried to say, but the lionin growled down at her. She didn't open her mouth. No. It sounded more like a ramble in the back of her throat.

  The poor clerk, probably not used to dealing with lionin, who lived far to the east, swallowed her next words. That, in addition to their reputation, made anyone step back and rethink their strategy.

  She growled, and a deep, hearty sound escaped her lips.

  “Our lord will not wait.”

  “But—but,” the woman stammered.

  “We would like to speak to the Guild Master,” the lionin said.

  “I—I can go get her.”

  “Get her,” the lionin said, and her teeth were on full display. She made sure the clerk could see how long and sharp they were.

  The clerk nodded so fast that Darrow and Damian thought her head would bounce off her shoulders.

  The clerk stepped out from behind her counter and started for the stairs at the end of the room. She felt like all the eyes were on her.

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  In her fear, however, she tripped over her robes and fell.

  She brushed against the lionin, who was dressed in a long, flowing, sleeveless coat.

  Everyone froze.

  “You dare?” one of the lionin bodyguards growled and raised his hand.

  The clerk—no, the girl—recoiled in fear.

  The lionin prepared to strike her, and everyone knew that if he followed through, the girl would need an expensive healing potion, not to mention the embarrassment she would have to deal with after this incident.

  The lionin’s hand raised and came down to strike the girl. Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen.

  Everyone gasped. The whole room was silent. There were murmurs that came from the crowd of adventurers, and their faces were either in shock or disbelief.

  Damian was holding back a huge furry arm, and everyone was staring at him.

  Darrow just rolled his eyes.

  “Here we go…” he muttered under his breath and shook his head like the disappointed younger brother he was.

  The lionin snarled, and his muscles flexed, but Damian didn’t budge.

  Everyone gasped, and a ripple ran through the crowd. It should have been impossible, but Darrow knew the truth.

  Unlike his level five skill, which allowed him to notice things, Damian’s level five was the envy of many warriors because, for some reason, he got [Lesser Strength] for a skill.

  Their eyes met, and Damian didn’t back down. He met the lionin’s gaze levelly.

  "He just had to get involved." Darrow pinched his brows and muttered to himself.

  “Do you know who I am, human?” the lionin guard asked.

  Damian just shrugged. Even though he was barely matching the lionin in strength, he just shrugged.

  Darrow watched as the crowd grew and circled around them, and at this point, he couldn’t help but sigh.

  The male lionin growled, and his hand flexed, then his claws flashed. The lionin bodyguard struck, and Damian ducked under the blow.

  Darrow just shook his head and positioned himself in a place where he could easily help Damian.

  A hand struck forward at Damian’s chest, and he lifted his arms, blocked with his forearms, and slid back.

  One of the other lionin guards started to move, but they found themselves tripping. All they saw when they looked back was Darrow’s back.

  If Damian wanted to get himself involved in this fuss, then he would let him. But he wasn’t going to involve himself directly—or so he hoped. This wasn’t to say that if the lionin ganged up on Damian, he would sit back and watch; no, he would be there in the thick of it with him.

  But a one-on-one? Darrow was sure Damian would handle it—or even level up. He was a [Duelist] after all. Darrow knew he would be stingy if he interrupted his fight.

  When Damian fought, he always had a sixth sense for things. It wasn’t like the [Sense Presence] skill he shared with his brother or their level five skill [Shared Fear].

  It was the skill they used now [Others’ Notice]. The skill just gave him a sense of what Darrow noticed that he could have missed.

  It guided Damian to dodge when the lionin jumped forward. But it only worked when they knew each other’s location.

  One of the other lionin guards cursed and moved to intercept, but he found himself tripping and falling to the ground. Darrow was there one minute, the next he was gone, blending into the circle of onlookers.

  Damian sidestepped and then punched the guard in the stomach. The lionin took the blow to the gut and stumbled into the counter—much to the clerk's horror—who hid behind the desk.

  The lionin growled, and the crowd scattered as he used some sort of ability. The lion man jumped through the air, and he moved so fast that the only thing Damian could do was parry.

  “What are you? Who are—” the lionin hissed, a glint of disbelief in his eyes.

  The lionin guard was having a hard time holding back. By all accounts, the human in front of him was of a low level, so why was he pushing him back? As far as he could tell, he was probably level eleven. That was the only way he could have such good fighting instincts—adjusting to block or parry.

  The lionin had decided that they were tired of this, and they decided to circle around him.

  “Darrow… where are you?” he asked, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

  The mere mention of him caused a rush in Darrow's body, and he moved.

  Darrow swept a kick low and tripped one of the circling guards, then he was there, back to back with Damian.

  The lionin leader roared above the noise of the crowd in the guild hall, and all the adventurers, well-dressed people, and guild union staff went quiet.

  He pointed at Damian and Darrow, and all the eyes fell on them.

  “You dare touch my guards,” he growled.

  Damian spat blood to the side. He met the lion man’s gaze levelly.

  “Your guard tried to hit a clerk, so yes.”

  “We are Lord Greldo’s guests, and he will hear of this. We are protected.”

  Lord Greldo was the local noble of the region who controlled a major portion of Principle City. He had a lot of money and was even known for sponsoring adventuring teams.

  “Damian, I think they want to talk.”

  The lionin snarled. He flexed his fingers, and his rings flashed as he clenched his fist.

  “And what gives you the right to interfere?”

  “They act like thugs. I don't know how things are done in the East, but we don't just attack people.” Damian said and nodded towards the guards

  “Don’t we? Oh, he attacked first,” Darrow said, then paused and nodded as if he had just figured out a grand truth.

  Rraan was large, and unlike some of his guards, who had small manes, his mane was largely a sign of his heritage.

  When he stepped in front of them, there was a weight to him—a presence that dwarfed theirs—and for the first time since facing the group, Darrow and Damian felt uncertain.

  The lionin lordling stepped forward again. He was young, but being a lordling—being a noble of the lionin—made him stand tall among his peers.

  Darrow’s hand reached for the daggers on his waist, and Damian was ready to draw his sword at any moment. Rraan stepped forward.

  But a thunderous voice boomed through the building.

  “Enough!” a woman dressed in shimmering robes said from the stairs, and everyone froze.

  Her robes had the insignia of the Union of Guilds, and she had to be the Guild Master of the branch.

  Her walking staff was laced with runes, enchanted if anyone had to guess, and it let out a clacking sound when it hit the ground. She had long hair, massive arms, and a stocky build you would find on any dwarf.

  She looked like this situation had just put itself on the list of the many things she had to deal with.

  Guild Mistress Magda walked forward, and the crowd parted. She was one of the most powerful and high-level individuals, and everyone knew this. By the time she had retired, she was a Gold Rank adventurer and one of the best.

  “Not in my hall,” she said, and the Lionin bristled but stepped back.

  Damian let go of his sword and raised his hand.

  Darrow straightened, removed his hands from his cloak, and brushed dust off his shoulders.

  The Guild Master swept her gaze across them. She was tall for a dwarf, but she felt even larger thanks to her presence and her levels.

  “All of you dishonour this place,” she said, and the crowd seemed to shrivel back.

  Rraan snarled, but he said nothing, and Damian looked at the guard, then bit back a retort. Darrow’s arm gripped his shoulder and held him.

  “We requested that we are attended, and your clerk showed Lord Rraan no respect,” a Lionin guard said.

  “And how are these two involved?” She pointed her walking stick at them.

  “He assaulted one of my guards,” Rraan pointed at Damian.

  “No, he didn’t. He was protecting the lovely young lady,” Darrow said.

  “Is this true?”

  “Yes.”

  She turned to the lionin and pinched her brows. She raised her hand and called the [Scribe] over. The scribe skirted forward. She almost tripped and fell, and her eyes were nervous.

  The young clerk bent down and whispered in her ear. She nodded once, then again. The young woman lifted her head, and the Guild Master looked back at them.

  Magda knew she had to make a decision now.

  She looked at the twins.

  “You two. You’re banned from the guild. I don’t want to see you anywhere near the square.”

  “What!” Darrow looked assaulted.

  “We did nothing wrong,” Damian began, but he stopped when the Guild Mistress raised her hand.

  She had a look of defeat on her face. She just turned to the lionin and his entourage, and they followed her up the stairs.

  “You can’t,” Damian said.

  Guild Mistress Magda paused. She tapped the floor, and magic pulsed through the room.

  Damian swallowed angrily, but Darrow did something else.

  “Understood, Guildmaster,” Darrow said, bowing politely.

  They backed out of the hall and back onto the unaware, bustling square.